


Just Stay

by tjemd



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Post-Canon, Shadow Weaver | Light Spinner's A+ Parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-27 02:14:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30115620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tjemd/pseuds/tjemd
Summary: As the frenetic activity after Prime’s defeat winds down, Adora and Catra take the opportunity to address some of their childhood trauma and gain some perspective in the process
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 67





	Just Stay

Coming back from her pre-dawn run, Adora gazes down at her partner’s sleeping form, expression soft. Padding gently, so as to minimize disrupting the body curled up on her side, Adora grabs a change of sleepwear and exits the room again to shower.

Clean and dry, Adora grins to herself in excitement at the opportunity to return to bed for a quick cuddle. Over the last few months, she has gotten to know this leaner, sharper Catra quite a bit better, but Adora is still amazed every time she thinks about how lucky she is, and about how many times she has come close to permanently losing the magicat over the last several years.

Opening the door quietly, Adora is pleased to see Catra still sleeping, visibly unmoved from when she stepped away for a shower. Adora lowers herself slowly, sliding into bed behind the slumbering form. She gently rubs circles into her uncovered shoulder, gradually transitioning into light scratching up and down Catra’s spine, igniting a lazy purr.

Smiling again, Adora slides her arms around Catra’s rib cage in a loose hug and presses gentle kisses down an exposed ear and along her jaw before moving closer to spoon her more effectively.

“Mmm, what time is it?” the slight purr gives way to a groggy question.

“It’s still early - go back to sleep.”

Catra opts not to argue, instead backing up to press herself flush to Adora’s form, tail curling back to embrace her torso. “You’re warm,” she sleepily observes.

“Yeah, I went for a run and took a shower afterward.”

Satisfied, Catra’s body relaxes and Adora gives her a slight squeeze as she follows her into slumber.

\---

Some time later, light streaming in from Etheria’s primary moon, Adora is awakened by the sensation of movement next to her. Affection blooming at the sight of Catra stretching languorously, Adora asks, "What are your plans for the day?"

"Scorpia is heading back to Horror Hall to continue renovations, and Perfuma is transplanting some of Shadow Weaver's old garden to Plumeria's green houses, so I figured I would keep her company and help with identification of anything she doesn't recognize." At Adora's confused look, she continues, gesturing to her nose. "I don't know what everything is, but I can help determine whether different plants are related species because they have similar scents."

"That sounds great!" Adora exclaims in response. "I really see you trying to make friends with the other princesses, and it means a lot."

Rather than looking pleased at the compliment, Catra suddenly tenses, the fur at her nape coming to attention. Her, "Thanks," is slightly flat, clearly an uncomfortable attempt to be gracious.

Sensing she'd misstepped, but unsure how, Adora opens her arms in a welcoming way. Warily, Catra slides over to Adora’s side of the bed and into her lap, gradually relaxing at the even strokes which follow down the back of her head.

"I know you're working on yourself -" Adora lets her sentence taper off, unclear about how best to continue. "I don't want to upset you, but I know I did."

Catra tenses up again, visibly wanting to avoid the topic. Giving them both another few moments, Adora intersperses light scratching into the mix.

"I can't prevent it from happening again if I don't know what went wrong," she eventually adds, voice carefully neutral.

“What do you remember from the Crystal Castle?” Catra asks Adora.

Adora, startled at the seeming non-sequitur, ponders the question. Slowly, she says, “Light Hope scanned our memories and showed us events from the Fright Zone that resulted in our becoming best friends - calling Octavia a dumb face, being caught by Shadow Weaver near the Black Garnet, and some of our sparring sessions." She gazes fondly at the magicat in her lap. "Those were some of our defining moments - when we promised we'd take care of each other for the first time, and when we proved ourselves as the underclassmen with the highest potential to the older cadets."

“Adora, that series of memories was meant to tear us apart,” Catra says dully, her ears sliding flat to her skull.

“What do you mean?”

Catra sighs slowly, deliberating. “The first memory was from when we became best friends - when you stood up for me against Octavia, which meant...” Catra swallows, “It meant a lot.”

Adora nods in recognition of the event.

“Every memory after that was intended to hit all of my insecurities. That you had other friends who liked you better, that older cadets and even Shadow Weaver always favored you over me, whether you deserved it or not. It was always made very clear that I was an inconvenience who was never going to be given the chance to earn a Force Captain rank."

Baffled, Adora responds unthinkingly, "Catra, you were _always_ late or breaking rules. You told me that you _intentionally_ slacked off because you were happier in second place, that it was less pressure."

Adora realizes she's losing Catra when the magicat starts curling into herself and wrapping her own arms around her shoulders, her tail unfurling from Adora's calf. Starting to panic, she pulls Catra tighter to herself, rocking slightly side-to-side and rubbing her back again.

Mumbling into her clavicle, Catra says, "I lied, ok? We started to talk about this back then. I hated always losing to you, and you never even noticed. Adora," she pauses, reluctant, "I've _always_ loved you. I knew that becoming Force Captain was your number one goal in the world. You fought for it in your _sleep_. Why would I take that away from you?"

Adora remains silent but physically supportive, letting Catra collect her thoughts, a growing anxiety prickling her chest. "But that doesn't mean it didn't hurt, dummy." Catra pulls her head away from Adora's chest, attempting a wan, toothy smile to lighten the mood. "You were always the golden child, the one destined for great things, and I was your lacky."

Adora's anxiety freezes into a sickeningly cold sensation, icy dread beginning to course through her body. Her arms still. "No, Catra. I _never_ saw you that way," she denies vehemently, belatedly realizing she is reenacting their conversation from so long ago.

"You didn't have to," Catra responds quietly, changing the script. She looks down with eyes now refusing to meet Adora's, face curtained by her lengthening hair. "Shadow Weaver did. Lonnie did. _Everyone_ did," she continues, voice turning bitter. 

"And you-" Catra turns to Adora again, her face crumpling a bit, "Maybe you never consciously saw me as less than you, but you certainly never thought of me as your equal. I was your _responsibility_." She practically spits the word. "That was demonstrated every time you chided me for being late or making other minor infractions, and it was reinforced when you verbally defended Shadow Weaver's actions."

Dread giving way to shame and regret, Adora thinks back to the Crystal Palace, her memories racing: elation at being recognized by the older cadets now seen through different eyes, her coming to Catra's aid an insult rather than an act of camaraderie.

"Catra, I-" Adora goes silent, at a loss for words, her mind a snarling mess of conflicting thoughts, her own body tensing.

"Forget it, it’s fine," Catra stands and starts pacing, waving dismissively. "I'm just sensitive. My point is that the issue has never been about effort, Adora. No amount of ‘trying,’” Catra’s voice pitches to a growl at the term, “would have made a difference. It’s just -," Catra pauses now, furtive glance back visibly full of conflict about voicing her continued thought, likely reluctant to say something which would hurt Adora.

Adora stands up as well, despite her limbs feeling leaden, her heart thudding through her ears, the ice expanding through her torso. She takes one step toward Catra, reaching out, but then falters, instead dropping her hands to her sides.

"Why did I never matter enough for you to even notice?" Catra asks finally, plaintive, before she turns and exits the room, conversation clearly over.

Sitting back down heavily on the bed where she’d been so happy just ten minutes prior, Adora fights through the rising panic, ignoring every impulse _screaming_ at her to go find Catra and apologize. She wants, _needs_ , to make her see that she _does_ matter, that she has _always_ mattered, is Adora’s literal heart’s desire.

Breathing deeply, Adora slowly comes back to herself. If conversation won’t get her anywhere, maybe she needs to try another approach. Writing Catra a note and leaving it on the bedside table in case she comes back early, Adora resolves to give her some space to cool down with Perfuma while she works on a way to demonstrate her feelings.

\---

With the reality of her plan underway, Adora’s nervousness kicks into high gear as she braces herself for what may be a difficult conversation. Heading down to the kitchen, she finds what she’s looking for dancing and singing to himself.

Taking another deep breath, Adora psyches herself up to greet the jovial form when she hears a chipper, “Brother!” greet her ears. “May I have the honor of providing my exalted brother nourishment?” Eyes sparkling merrily as he winks at her, Wrong Hordak proffers a tray of assorted scones and other baked goods with a flourish.

“Thank you, but I just ate breakfast,” Adora declines politely, and Wrong Hordak puts the tray back on the island. “I was wondering if you had a minute to talk?”

Setting a timer, Wrong Hordak agrees. “The amniotic muffins have 10 minutes remaining,” comes the upbeat response. At Adora’s ill-disguised look of horror, he amends, “That was a joke.”

“Ah..ha HA,” Adora's belated laugh is weak, though Wrong Hordak seems not to notice, delighted at her reaction. “I have a serious question, though - it’s about Horde Prime.”

At the mention of his progenitor, the clone’s cheerful demeanor dims a bit, but he only asks, “What would you like to know?”

As Adora details her request, Wrong Hordak's nod turns eager and he outlines the steps she needs to take. 

Surprised and gratified at this outcome, Adora thanks him and asks if she can take a couple of scones to go, ending up with half a dozen.

\---

Heartened, Adora moves on to her next destination.

Rapping softly on the door to Bow’s workshop to minimize disruption in case he were working on something sensitive, Adora takes a step back to wait.

After a few seconds, the door creaks open and Bow’s face looks curiously in either direction before focusing on hers. “Adora! How can I help you?”

“I’m afraid I’m here for a favor rather than a social visit,” she responds sheepishly. “But I brought refreshments?” Adora slightly lifts the basket with beverages and assorted commissary offerings.

“Come in!” he backs away, fully pulling the door open behind him. “Don’t mind the mess - I’m just running tests on Prime’s chips to understand whether I can find evidence of long-term effects on the body.”

Shuddering slightly, Adora takes a seat at the far end of the table, putting the case with the food on the floor next to her. Unzipping it, she starts serving food into dishes and places silverware on napkins atop the table’s surface. “Have you found anything?” she asks gamely.

“Not yet,” Bow shakes his head. “I don’t really know what I’m looking for - maybe a repeated signal or pulse that changes brainwave patterns, or something that alters hormonal production. We don’t actually have baseline lab work for most Etherian species, but I wanted to rule out anything obvious that we can prevent or treat.”

“That makes sense,” Adora nods, “But it sounds frustrating not having any idea whether you’re looking at anything significant.”

Bow shrugs and grins. “I’m a tinkerer. If I can find something that would help people who were captured by Prime and his clones, that would be the best case, but there are lots of other potential applications as well.” At Adora’s furrowed brow, Bow clarifies, “Like improved tracker pads. It’s not clear how Prime was able to upload people’s memories to his consciousness via long-distance communications.”

Adora’s eyes brighten, reminded of her purpose for coming to see Bow. “Actually, I was wondering if you could help me with something else.”

“I can certainly try,” Bow responds, sitting across from Adora, intrigued. “What do you need?”

“Do you remember how Mara recorded footage from Darla’s bridge and stored it in one of the First Ones’ crystals?”

Bow pauses thoughtfully, picking up his fork and tucking into a slice of quiche. “Yes, and we were able to find a cache of them in the ship’s storage room. I haven’t been able to duplicate the functionality here on Etheria yet, though.”

Swallowing a bit of custard pastry, Adora asks, “Have you and Entrapta discovered how to transfer footage from Darla onto one of the crystals?”

“I haven’t tried,” Bow answers honestly, “but, as the administrator, you could put an empty one in the crystal slot and ask Darla to do it for you. The natural language processor Entrapta equipped her with should be able to figure it out.”

Reassured by knowing how to store and transfer her project for the day, Adora cheers internally. Gratefully, she exclaims, “Thank you!” and then pivots topics to learn more about Bow’s research as they consume the rest of the meal.

\---

Buoyed by her success, Adora is practically vibrating with both excitement and nerves when she gets to her room. Catra has not made it back yet, but Adora trusts that Perfuma and Melog will have kept her good company, and that working on something constructive will have improved her mood. 

In the interim, she busies herself with preparing an overnight bag for both of them, just in case her plan takes longer than expected.

By the time Catra shows up, Adora has finished packing and has changed into nightwear, now reading in bed. The sound of the door opening draws her eyes immediately, and she jumps up to greet Catra with a hug. Pausing before she reaches her partner, Adora scans Catra’s face to gauge her welcome.

Catra looks tired but not upset, clearly having cleaned up after her day in the garden, and Adora embraces her enthusiastically, pressing a kiss into the crown of her head. Scooping her lean figure up in a bridal carry, Adora walks the magicat over to the bed and gently lays her down, leaning over to place more light kisses all around her face while rubbing her ears. 

Next, Adora gently grabs first one hand and then the other, massaging out what must be sore muscles in her palms and forearms from a day of digging up dirt and roots. Catra accepts the affection without struggle, her face and body loosening into a soft repose.

Task complete, Adora curls up behind her to spoon her again and finally breaks the silence, asking quietly, “How were things with Perfuma?”

"We got through the worst of the garden. Perfuma says that most of it is benign - herbs and flowers for teas or aesthetic purposes."

"Will she need you tomorrow?"

Catra shakes her head. "No, Scorpia will be here in the morning, and they'll be taking what we transplanted into temporary pots to Plumeria tomorrow."

Relieved at the response, Adora presses a bit further. "Would you mind if I take you to the Crystal Castle tomorrow?"

"What?!" The body in her arms stiffens, all hint of relaxation evaporating. "Adora…" comes a warning response. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"I have something I want to show you," Adora cajoles, "and it will be nothing like the last time. The Heart of Etheria protocol has been disabled, and Light Hope is gone. There won't be any spiders, and, with Darla's uplink interface, I have much better administrative control of _all_ of the First Ones ruins."

Sensing Catra's opposition weakening into reluctance, Adora continues. "I'm sorry for this morning, and for ever making you feel like I don't need you, Catra." With a slight squeeze, she finishes her pitch. "Please let me make it up to you?"

Sighing heavily, but seemingly sensing Adora's resolve, Catra accedes. "OK - but I'm going to need to be fully alert, so we'd better get to sleep."

"Thank you," Adora responds, adjusting to pull the covers over both of them and closing her eyes.

\---

The next morning, after a quick stop for breakfast and to find and collect Melog, they make the trek into the Whispering Woods on foot. Without urgency, the walk is fairly peaceful, a great way to stretch their legs. After spending so long crouched over yesterday, Catra's back and calves appreciate the light exercise.

"Did you enjoy gardening, Melog?" Adora asks from beside her, knowing Catra will be able to translate their "Mroow" in response.

"They said, 'Yes,' although Melog actually didn't do much of the work," Catra adds, her response a little wry. Their head bumps into her hand in acknowledgment.

Finally making their way to the crystalline structure, Catra feels her heart rate accelerate and her fur start to prickle. Melog rubs against her side, the color of their mane flickering in disquiet. She doesn't actually _want_ to be here, but it was important to Adora.

Steeling her nerve, Catra begins a bit of banter. "All right, Princess. We're here. What are we doing?"

Adora steps forward, leading them into the darkened hallway. Without Light Hope managing the environmental controls, the building is silent and unresponsive, visibly deserted, so she summons her sword. "I know I've been oblivious, and unintentionally callous. You deserve better." 

Here, Adora pauses, turning back to Catra fully, her face glowing blue from the sword. "I also know that you don't want an apology - so I'm doing the next best thing."

No less confused for the cryptic statement, Catra responds, "You want to run that by me again, Princess?”

“I’m rerunning the simulation Light Hope used, but it will be designed differently. Instead of weaponizing our memories to cause harm, I want you to know how much I cherish you.” Having answered Catra’s question, Adora resumes down the hall.

Somewhat trepidatious now, Catra takes a few deep breaths and quiets her concern with the reassurance that Adora wouldn’t intentionally hurt her. Melog again makes their presence known, an inquisitive sound emanating from behind her to her left.

“Thanks, Melog,” she responds, “it will be fine. I’m just nervous because this didn’t go well last time.”

When they make it to the large atrium, Adora pulls out her tracker pad, modified courtesy of Entrapta to have a remote connection to Darla when planetside. Catra watches in mild interest as Adora replaces one crystalline rectangular prism with another and speaks into the pad.

A few moments later, the atrium lights up in a familiar glow, Darla’s welcome spherical shape appearing between the three. “Good morning, Administrator,” Darla’s voice intones.

Relieved at the absence of spiders and glowing figures with murderous intent, Catra finds herself relaxing as Adora walks Darla through the simulation request. To their left, a doorway opens up with the same purple hue as the AI interface. Adora then pulls one of the arrow shaped First Ones shards out of her pack and places it in another slot.

Turning to Catra, Adora asks, “Are you ok with this?” and walks up to her, rubbing up and down her arms before holding her hands and squeezing. “I know I’m asking for a lot of trust.”

Remembering all of the faith Adora had given her in turn, that she had vouched for her with the Princess Alliance, that she had _come back for her_ on Prime’s ship, Catra’s chest warms in affection and she squeezes back. “After you,” she says with more bravado than she feels.

The experience as they move into the cavernous room in which the now-familiar body scan occurs is very different from the first time. After the terrain shift, instead of the large, sickly green industrial vista of the Fright Zone, she finds herself surrounded by a much more claustrophobic metallic gray and white color palette.

Her memory immediately flashes back to the last time she was in the Velvet Glove. Catra shuts her eyes tightly as it comes to her in sharp, unforgiving fragments:

  * The cacophony of clones at the doorway to her right, klaxons and flashing lights above and all around
  * The mixed sensations of hearing Adora in her own voice for the first time in months, knowing it would be the last
  * The urgent uncertainty over whether she would be quick enough to send Glimmer off before the clones subdued her, or whether Adora would get to Glimmer’s quadrant in time
  * The shame, desperation, and rare honesty marking the first apology in her life
  * The brief flash of triumph at her gambit paying off, immediately followed by the rising bile and resignation at knowing she was completely alone in the custody of an impossibly inhumane enemy



Instead of being dragged through the halls to be brought before Prime, though, Catra blinks and finds an ephemeral version of herself on Darla’s bridge, the gray and white hexagons replaced with blues and purples and an unobstructed view into the vacuum of space. She sees Darla’s purple orb, the Best Friend Squad, and Entrapta standing around the room. Adora initially looks frustrated, and then serious when Darla mentions an incoming call. 

Upon hearing past Catra’s voice, Adora’s eyes widen in shock. Catra feels a frisson of disappointed sadness at the reaction, however reasonable it may be. Past Catra is both brisk and sarcastic, focusing on the task at hand rather than taking time for any pleasantries. Adora’s face is transparent, revealing bafflement and a belated attempt to process the rapid words as past Catra dictates the team’s next steps. Her task finished, past Catra’s verbal brusqueness gives way to an urgent apology and the audio feed cuts out.

Adora’s response is instantaneous, a series of protests and welling tears Catra never expected, the reaction filling her with both surprised gratitude and the strong urge to comfort her partner. _At this point, the last time Adora and I had spoken was in the portal_ , she thinks to herself, ashamed. Distractedly, Catra sees Bow direct Entrapta to Glimmer’s coordinates, but the bulk of her attention is focused on Adora’s hunched form continuing to ask Darla in vain to reopen the connection. 

When the image fades, Catra realizes Adora is still trying to reach her.

\---

Back in real time, Catra stares at a grief-stricken Adora, still caught in the experience of reliving the memory. Melog is at her side, licking her hand and nuzzling into her thigh. They have just enough time for their eyes to catch before the scenery shifts again, upsetting her equilibrium.

Recognizing the bridge of the Velvet Glove, Catra remembers an awful, multi-story drop after a sharp crack of pain from hitting the console. But this, this is different - she had blacked out after the fall, the combination of the electrical shocks convulsing her body after Prime exited her mind and the impact of the floor overcoming her tenuous grasp on consciousness.

Comparing her memory to the scene around her, Catra sees herself from what she assumes to be Adora’s perspective. Feeling heavily bruised, and certain that her legs are cramped beyond use - if not outright broken - from the landing, Catra feels agony lancing through her body as she tries to stand. Nevertheless, her desperation and determination supersede it as she crawls toward the form of her past self. Catra finds herself seeking to comfort and reassure the prone body, saying the first platitude that comes to mind.

The magicat below her begins breathing shallowly. Catra blinks back tears in mixed relief and sorrow at the fact that she is still alive, but conversely looks so weak. Focusing resolutely on the relief, Catra gently cradles her own limp form to her chest and pulls the magicat’s head over her shoulder in a one-way embrace. She doesn’t get to spend much time in this position, though, before she hears footsteps closing in slowly from all directions. Dread suffuses Catra’s body as Prime’s voice speaks. Then, remembering the limp body in her arms, Catra explodes in anger.

As the white-hot rage begins to overtake her, Catra feels her consciousness pulled away from Adora’s body, instead drawn into one of the clones. The disorientation from the shifting perspective is reinforced by the uneasy confusion racing through her as she sees the glow of power emanating from Adora’s crouched form. Suddenly able to stand, Adora braces the limp body across her shoulder blades and grips her rib cage, the magicat continuing to sag against Adora’s arm, clearly still unconscious. 

Catra’s confusion gives way to fear as she sees Adora invoke a phrase, transforming into the She-Ra. Faster than Catra can react, Adora sweeps her sword at three clones who fall from the singular blow. An elbow thrust and backhanded slash later, another clone is felled. With a burst of light, Catra’s vision goes dark.

At this point, her perspective shifts again. Looking at her hands, Catra sees that she is an ephemeral version of herself within a hallway of the Velvet Glove, floating next to Bow, Glimmer, and Entrapta, all of whom are yelling at each other. Suddenly, in another burst of light, she sees her own body cradled in She-R- Adora’s arms. Upon the sudden reappearance of Prime’s clones, Adora gently hands the unconscious Catra to Bow and re-materializes her sword. 

Following the rest of the team, Catra briefly looks back over her shoulder to see Adora square up against the clones, drawing some kind of glyph, an ephemeral Melog crouched for a pounce. Involuntarily moving up the ramp into the bridge, Catra sees her body laid gently on the ground with Bow and Glimmer’s concerned faces peering down over her. Less than a minute later, she sees Adora and Melog enter the bridge as well.

After Adora directs Darla away from the Velvet Glove, Catra sees her kneel over Catra’s own body, expression sorrowful. Face shifting to determination, Adora pulls Catra’s body close enough to breathe the same air, foreheads touching. Stunned, Catra watches in disbelief as Adora, eyes tearing up, promises a return to home for everyone and begins glowing, the bright light expanding to engulf both of them. 

As Adora transforms back to her normal form, Catra’s heart twinges at the stricken expression on her face at thinking her healing attempt had failed. When past-Catra begins to cough, Adora’s look of sheer relief and her tight hug, not fully appreciated by the Catra who had been raised from near death, is more recognizable to her ephemeral counterpart.

As memory after memory plays, from Adora pacing the hallway outside the brig where past Catra has bunked to her constantly seeking excuses to check in on the magicat, Catra observes the intensity of her worry, and the deep well of care that underpins every action.

\---

Overwhelmed with the combination of experiencing Adora’s feelings and witnessing her actions during past Catra’s convalescence, Catra stands motionless as the simulation ends. Adora’s grief and desire to protect _her_ were what had empowered her to reconnect with She-Ra - prior to that, Adora hadn’t been able to transform, didn’t even have the sword. Catra hadn’t realized that before today, hadn’t understood the enormity of the risk the whole crew had taken to rescue her from Horde Prime.

Looking up, Catra sees Adora standing several feet away, arms at her side, uncertainly shifting her feet. Briefly puzzled over what Adora could be worried about, Catra realizes Adora has no idea what her reception will be - doesn’t realize the immensity of the gift she has given Catra. 

This gives her a burst of confidence and she launches herself at Adora, who lifts her arms instinctively to catch her weight.

“Hey, Adora,” she purrs.

“Yeah?” Adora, visibly less anxious, gives her a more satisfied grin.

Rewarding that grin and the poignant, thoughtful experience with a kiss, Catra continues with, “This was the single greatest gift anyone has ever given me. Both times.”

Adora’s smile turns puzzled as she asks, “Both times?”

Catra feels her own broad grin as she says, “Sparkles was already safe, so all of you really came to save me, even without She-Ra.”

“I would always come for you,” Adora responds, suddenly serious. “Catra, you mean so much to me - I don’t ever want you to feel like a lackey or somehow less than anyone else in the Alliance. How can I prove it to you?”

Warm, safe, and high off the endorphin rush of residually experiencing Adora’s memories, Catra reassures her. “You’re doing pretty good so far, Princess. Just stay.”


End file.
